God Slayers
by thorelyn
Summary: It has been two years since Claire Bennet revealed the existence of metahumans to the world. Humanity had been taken aback, but it was not prepared for what was to come. One year later, a siege of New York City took place, led by the alien being Loki. The world is still reeling from the discovery of alien beings. When Thor and Loki return, will Earth be able to hold together?
1. Prologue: Whispers in the Dark

**Disclaimer**: I am not affiliated with Marvel, NBC, or any of the characters in any way.

First story of a series of crossovers involving characters from the show Heroes and The Avengers.

* * *

"You are dismissed."

The guards who stood watch of the prison exchanged glances briefly, but there was no questioning the order-not when it came from the source. Both guards offered a short nod before moving away. Silence was all-encompassing in the prison; all of the cells were empty save one.

But to its occupant, it was more of a cage.

Odin Allfather slowly stepped up to the cell that held his adopted son, yet Loki was still a son in his heart. The king spoke no words, knowing that none needed to be said for the Trickster to know who was present. Everything in the cell was clean-it was pristine; clean and pure to try and get into the chaotic and cluttered mind of its prisoner. Loki was seated on a small bench, back turned to the pane of glass that separated estranged father from son. Everything about the Trickster's lithe form was different; sharp and alien, a clear contrast to the broad and rounded builds of most Asgardians.

"Odin Allfather." Loki's voice was a clear announcement after a long moment. "Well, father of most, it would seem."

"Loki, this is no time to discuss that matter." Odin's voice was hesitant, as if he felt he were treading carefully upon ice. "I am not here for a talk on lineage."

"Then do you wish to exploit my defeat even more than has already been done?"

"Why would you think such a thing?"

"It is the pattern of most in this realm, _dear_ Allfather. I was not blind to the sneers and hisses as your oaf of a son accompanied me to this prison."

"Their behavior has no correlation to what I think, son." Even the word son seemed a foreign thing, and Odin glanced around the prison briefly before his gaze settled back on Loki. "You are attempting to stall."

"It was worth a try." Loki finally turned his head to look to the King, and one corner of his mouth twitched before forming a crooked smirk. "What service may I provide for Asgard? Surely, that is why you are here? To seek some sort of help? A visitor who comes for a simple visit is indeed a rare thing."

"Yes, that is why I am here. I wish to make a negotiation, of sorts, with you."

"And what-" Loki was suddenly on his feet, merely inches from the glass-to Odin, it appeared as if he had suddenly appeared there. "-could you possibly offer to me?"

"Sanctuary."

"This cell is quite nice, actually. It is away from all out _there_." Loki jutted out his chin, a smug facade of pride washing over him. "What could be better than this?"

"A place where you have no walls holding you in. A place where we will not be a bother to you."

"You offer freedom. For a price."

"Yes." Odin paused and gazed at his son, as if from afar, before bringing himself a step closer to the cell. "You are a fugitive, in a way, my son. You are on the run from the one who led the Chitauri with you. Thanos. Yet, here, you have nowhere to go. If we were to release you, you would have the freedom to run as far as you would need. Word would eventually get out of your escape from our prisons, and word of this would eventually reach Thanos."

"You wish to use me as bait?" Loki gave a feral grin with a shake of his head. "Odin Allfather, always willing to sacrifice a son to make his own plans work."

"You have managed to hide yourself from the vision of Heimdall. I trust you can elude Thanos and find your way through the cosmos."

"You trust me? Have you been spending time with your elder-or should I say only-son?"

"What is your answer?"

The trickster remained quiet for a long moment before a wicked grin spread across his face.

* * *

"You stomp so loudly, Thor. I'm surprised you haven't summoned the fell beasts of Helheim with a mere walk into the prison."

"It is nice to see you are feeling yourself, Brother." Thor stopped in front of Loki's cell, looking to his brother as he lay on the bench inside. "I have brought you some food."

"I do not require it."

"You have refused to eat for some time." Thor gave a quiet sigh. "You must give yourself at least some nourishment."

"Leave it here, then, and spare me your presence."

"You will not even turn to greet me?"

"Do I really need to see that idiotic look on your face?" Loki sat up and looked to Thor, then gave a slight laugh. "Just as I expected."

Thor frowned, but said nothing. Instead, he opened up the cell to bring the tray of food in for his brother. Without another word he set the tray down, and then looked to his brother. Loki's face was one he knew well-perhaps one he knew better than any other. Yet looking upon him here, everything about the trickster seemed so...different. Loki had been poisoned; the victim of a venomous dream which consumed him and led him to Earth. Or had that been his wish? Thor didn't know, and probably never would know the truth of what had happened. He turned to face his brother, and offered a small smile.

"I hope everything is alright."

The thunderer moved a hand to touch his brother on the arm, and-

His hand went through the arm.

_No._

"Loki..." Thor looked around quickly. Only the illusion of his brother stood, staring silently at him. No other was in the prison.

He was gone.

"**_Loki!_**"


	2. One: The Gathering Storm

**Disclaimer**: I am not affiliated with Marvel, NBC, or any of the characters in any way.

First story of a series of crossovers involving characters from the show Heroes and The Avengers.

_Note: I know things are starting a little slow, but they will be picking up from this point out! :)_

* * *

Two years ago, it had been her face all over the news. The world was in no way prepared to see what was shown-they were not prepared to see some young blonde jump off a ferris wheel, and stand up as if nothing had happened.

_"My name is Claire Bennet, and this is attempt number...I guess I've kind of lost count."_

Every day for the following year, she relived those words. Every day, she was stopped, harassed, asked multitudes of questions about what it was she could do and other people like her. Was she the only one? Did it hurt? How many times had she broken and re-broken the bones in her body? And the more people pressed, the more she had to silently curse herself. Here she was; Claire Bennet, the small town girl that had once wished for a life of normalcy despite her strange _gift_ (if she could even call it that, at this point) was now thrust into the public eye and labeled for what she was: a freak. A mutant. Some sort of strange biological occurrence that would forever change the way humanity viewed itself. But the worst label: a guinea pig. Test her, prod her, tear her apart until she reveals her genetic secrets and look away which she stitches up the bloody mess on her own. People demanded that she be locked up and have cells ripped from her-what if they acted like stem cells? Could her blood heal people with diseases in their marrow-could they help treat and potentially cure people with cancer?

The noise of it all had become overwhelming. She couldn't even go to her classes because it was only a matter of minutes before the lecture degraded into a question-and-answer session, with the little blonde girl from Texas at center stage. Claire had to pull away. Gretchen was less than pleased about that-she'd tried climbing over Claire's walls before, and pushed and pushed until Claire gave a little and allowed Gretchen a little closer. But after the jump, those walls were quickly put back up. Why did Gretchen have to deal with the stress of the public eye with her? It didn't take long for Gretchen to pull away after that. And, Claire had to take it in stride-it was for the better, it _had_ to be. She had to keep those she cared about safe, no matter the price it cost her. She would be alright.

Then there was New York.

Again, in New York-maybe the movies were right, placing all of the crazy events of the world in that city. It came under attack. Aliens from another galaxy (another dimension, even, some swore) sieged the city under the guidance of one named Loki. And then-The Avengers. There was Captain America, the man frozen in time (Peter had really admired him), the already-infamous Tony Stark in his suit of iron, Black Widow and Hawkeye, The Hulk, and Thor-another being from across the stars. And Thor was the brother of Loki. Norse deities-it had all seemed so sudden and strange. Not only were there mutants like Claire herself, but there were real heroes out there-and real beings from other galaxies and other systems that had access to the Earth.

Everything went nuts after that.

Claire was old news-the Avengers took over. Everywhere she looked, she saw them-the headlines for every paper, every news channel in TV, and even every station on the radio was talking about Earth's Mightiest Heroes. And they should have been-they literally saved the world from an alien invasion. SHIELD still remained a great mystery-they reminded Claire of The Company-despite all the news, and the government made sure that as little information as possible about the branch was leaked. Conspiracy theories ran alongside the headlines about the different Avengers. Mutants were forgotten; left in the dust. And, as Claire saw it, that was for the better. She was given a break in a newly upheaved world.

After the attack on New York, she'd gone to visit Peter, and make sure he was alright. And, she never left. Claire decided being around him was better-wasn't it always? She transferred from Arlington to NYU (Angela probably pulled a few strings there for her-not that she was going to complain at this point) and gave herself a fresh start. Maybe it was time to work for something relatively normal once again.

* * *

"And now, on to the analysis of the quote I assigned on Monday."

There was some shuffling of papers and a dry cough as students quickly averted their gaze, hoping to not be called upon by the professor. Claire's own gaze wandered to the window-the weather was getting a little crazy outside. It seemed like a storm was forming out of nowhere. Just ten minutes ago, the Sun had been shining, and there was even been a nice breeze. But now storm clouds were taking over the sky, seeming to bubble up from one spot and spread out; a large and dark hand taking grasp of the city.

"Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you look into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you. What do you think Nietzsche was trying to convey with this statement?"

The professor's voice was lost on Claire, who was still looking out the window while scribbling little doodles in the margin of her notebook. Anything would have beat being stuck in the stuffy classroom today-there was probably a cool wind barreling through the city streets with this oncoming storm, and having a feel of something cool and wild would have been refreshing-

"Miss Bennet? Why don't we start with you?"

Claire looked to the professor quickly when her name was said, and a little crooked smile crossed over her face while she nodded.

"Sure."

"What did you think was being said here?"

"Well..." Claire flipped a page back in her notebook and looked over the few things she'd written before coming into class. It had been a busy couple of days since their last class session, and Peter had been talkative-he wanted to talk about Nathan, and how could Claire not listen and not reminisce? A light sigh escaped her before she started speaking again. "For the first half, I thought he meant that people can become the very thing they're fighting against." Hadn't she, when she was trying to find others like her to keep her Dad from finding them first? "If they get wrapped up in what they're doing, they may do whatever it takes to complete their goals. And the second half could mean that whenever someone looks for knowledge that goes into the darker things in life, like death, they don't pull away untouched by what they find." She'd certainly changed each time she sought to test her ability-it opened up her own inner abyss. "People can't avoid consequences of gaining knowledge."

"Very good. And why don't you add on, Mr. Chase?"

Claire zoned out again while others added in their own input, and she put her chin in her hand while glancing towards the window. It was pouring now, and hailed thundered down from the dark skies above. It seemed like the sky was splitting apart with the severity of the storm-it was like it was enraged and seeking vengeance. The professor started to pull up a video to watch, but when a large bolt of lighting hit, the power went out. Everyone began to murmur, and Claire glanced around before looking towards the teacher.

"Well, I was hoping to conclude with this video, but maybe it would be best to let out a little early. Stay safe, everyone."

Claire may have been the first to get up and bolt to the door (and by that-yes, she definitely was). The weather was so strange-what was going on? While the other students shuffled into lounges, Claire went down the stairs and out into the belly of the beast. Wind whipped her hair and almost pulled it out of its ponytail, and she had to squint in order to see anything. Hopefully the buses were running. She darted to the bus stop in front of the building and sat down on the bench within the glass enclosure. Only one other person was waiting for the bus with her-a tall and lean man, with a green scarf kept neat around his neck. His features were sharp, and he seemed to be alert-tense, even. Claire caught his eyes and offered a small smile.

"Not a big fan of storms?"

"I am not particularly fond of what brings them."

The statement was left vague, and Claire smiled slightly before looking away. What brought them? Wasn't it all air fronts and stuff like that? Her eyebrows met some while she glanced down the street-no sign of the bus. There weren't many people on the roads at all. Claire had never seen the street so empty before, not even between classes, and she couldn't help but wonder just how bad the storm was elsewhere.

Her and the stranger sat in awkward silence while waiting for the bus. His gaze was focused straight ahead, and it seemed that every muscle was poised for a sprint; he seemed as if he was going to stand up straight and suddenly bolt at any moment. Claire tried not to look over at him, and was relieved when her phone buzzed in her pocket.

"Hello?"

"Hey Claire, its me." Peter. "Are you indoors?"

"Just waiting for a bus."

"You may want to wait inside, this storm's crazy."

"I'll be fine."

"I know. Just-stay safe."

"I will. See you soon."

She ended the call with a little smile, and glanced over when she caught the stranger eyeing her and her phone. A slight grin worked its way across her face again and she turned towards him.

"Been waiting long for the bus?"

"Far longer than I wish. Are your services always this far behind in this wretched city?"

"When the weather gets bad, yeah."

Something in his demeanor switched-suddenly his stance seemed a lot more imposing; his posture was raw and feral. Claire looked ahead quickly, and fought hard to ignore the sneer that came over the stranger's face. She swore she could hear the hatred in his eyes and feel the disgust that cut through the air. Both tensed when a loud clap of thunder cracked above their heads, and then-

A flash of red.

The ground shook when something-someone-landed just outside the enclosure, Before Claire could even blink, there he was-the giant blonde demigod who had been in the city just a year before. His hand grabbed the other man right at the back of the throat, and he lifted the other right off of the bench and held him against the glass.

"Tell me this is no illusion!"

"Dear brother." A crooked grin broke out across the sharp face. "Subtlety is still not a strength of yours, I see. I was not expecting you so soon-"

"How did you escape your cell?"

"Escape is not how I would put it."

"Then who let you go?" Thor stared at his brother's face, determination written in his features. Why had his brother returned to this realm? "Why come here?"

"I do not expect you to understand. So if you will just let me go and be at peace amongst the pathetic beings of this realm, then I would greatly appreciate it."

Claire was frozen in place. Thor was back. And so was Loki? Her eyes were glued to the brothers as they spoke, ignoring her presence entirely.

"Not until you answer my questions, Loki. And none of your lies-I demand the truth. Why would you return here when there are others far worse in the cosmos seeking you out than I?"

"What makes you think they are far worse? There are plenty of places to hide. I know what hunts me. Do you?"

"Nay." Thor squeezed a bit harder before setting Loki back on his feet. "And I will not leave until I know."

"You will leave now, Thor, Son of Odin." Loki gave a feral smile before moving-quite suddenly-across the enclosure, to yank Claire to her feet. One hand grabbed a hold of her jaw while the other wrapped tightly around her, leaving her nowhere to go. "If you say another word, I will break her neck."

Thor hesitated, looking to Claire before his eyes settled on Loki. Of course he did not want harm to come to any of this realm, but he needed answers. No matter what, he needed to speak more to his brother. The broken monster that Loki had become was still his brother-his choice had been made long ago. He took a careful step forward and extended a hand.

"Loki-"

The trickster kept his promise. Quickly, his hand yanked Claire's head to one side, with the strength of a Jotun. He dropped Claire to the ground and flashed a quick smile to Thor, as if nothing had happened.

"Now, if you will excuse me-"

Both demigods stopped when they heard the sound of bones moving again-this time, they were coming back together instead of being torn apart. Claire moved her head from side to side as everything settled back in place, and she stared quietly up at the two, looking from one brother to the other. Thor stared with confusion and slight admiration, while Loki watched with curiosity. Strange-no other mortal either had seen could do such a thing.

A noise came outside the enclosure-a vehicle pulled up. The three looked to see what it was-one unmarked SUV, with two others closely following. One of the doors of the closest car opened, and Director Fury stepped out, staring straight ahead with his good eye as if he didn't even notice the torrential rain around him. Thor turned towards the familiar face, but kept his stance strong-he would keep the director and his brother separated for now.

"Gentlemen, we should talk. Why don't you come with us?"

Thor looked from Claire to Loki before moving to stare at the Director once again. Another door of the SUV opened, and Claire froze in place. The person stepping out was someone she knew-someone she knew rather well. The blonde got to her feet and stepped forward before either of the deities did, and complete confusion washed over her. What was she doing here? Who was this other man? What the hell was going on?

"Angela?"

Her grandmother stared back at her before giving a thin smile.

"Hello, Claire. You can come with us, too. I'm sure you have some questions, as always."

Claire looked back to Thor and Loki before her eyes sought out her grandmother again. She did indeed have questions-and she wouldn't go without answers.


	3. Two: Look Into the Abyss

**Disclaimer**: I am not affiliated with Marvel, NBC, or any of the characters in any way.

First story of a series of crossovers involving characters from the show Heroes and The Avengers.

_ Note: I apologize for taking so long! My muse escaped me on this, but slammed into me earlier this week. I'll be sure to keep the tricky muse in line ehehe-thank you for reading!_

* * *

It took Claire about two minutes to turn from silent and pensive to outraged and demanding in the SUV with Angela.

"What the hell are those two doing here? Isn't it enough that they destroyed our city last year? What are they doing, rubbing our noses in it? And that tall asshole-Loki." Claire rubbed her neck as she spoke, as if the touch of his lithe, phantom fingers still lingered on her neck-as if she could feel it. "What the hell was he thinking, snapping my neck? What if it wasn't me? What if he came back and started killing people and attacking again?" By now, the words were rolling out of her mouth with little thought. "And how the hell did you know they were here? Its bad enough that there's still so many unanswered questions about the Company, and Pinehearst. But now, with you involved in SHIELD? Its a good thing I'll live forever, because that's how long it'll take to get answers."

"That's enough, Claire." Angela's voice was calm, but the gaze she shot to her granddaughter was sharp; a metaphorical knife held to the base of Claire's throat, offering a silent challenge and clear order. "Perhaps one day you'll learn that instead of rapidly firing questions, you should stop and think before you speak, and maybe get an idea about what answers you want instead of ones you simply demand."

"I know what answers I'm looking for. That's why I'm asking you these questions." The blonde drew in a sharp breath and moved to stare out the window. It was still pouring. How fitting. "I should've known better than to ask you for answers."

With that, Angela frowned. Anger flashed behind her eyes, for a moment, and she pushed Claire's shoulder gently so that her granddaughter was facing her again. What she would give to teach her granddaughter how to use that good head on her shoulders.

"Just wait, Claire. Maybe you'll get some answers when we arrive to our destination."

With that, Claire gave a slight roll of her eyes and fell silent. Maybe she would. Probably not. At least, aside from the heated conversation between herself and her grandmother, the car ride was going smoothly. There wasn't any sudden commotion from the other vehicles-either the brothers were separated, or Thor had demanded that he keep an eye on Loki to prevent any more outbursts. Like she had any idea how their minds worked. All she knew of their ways was destruction-it was all they had to offer, it seemed, after what had happened in New York. It was fitting that Thor carried a hammer. The both of them seemed to be nothing more than that-nothing more than tools, attempting to hammer nails in a coffin spanning the cosmos.

When the cars stopped, Claire undid her seatbelt without casting a glance over to her grandmother, and got out of the vehicle and stood in the rain. Was this SHIELD, or something? It was on one of the few blocks that had managed to be fully restored since the Chitauri attack-and, of course, it was close to Stark Tower. Maybe Tony Stark had a hand in the restoration and the choosing of the location for SHIELD. It could have been a way for him to keep an eye on what was happening, and who was coming and going, here at what Claire guessed were the headquarters.

Thor and Loki were led out of another of the SUV's (they had ridden together, then, Claire noted) and made to walk together, silently, into the building that loomed before them. Claire's gaze followed them, and while Thor did not give her a second look, or even an apparent thought, Loki's eyes immediately burned into her own accompanied by a feral smile. Her own eyes narrowed slightly, though she frowned to herself. For a moment, she wondered how Sylar would fare against the gods-interdimensional beings-aliens-whatever they were.

She hoped they'd mop the floor with him.

Angela brushed past Claire, and then Claire moved to fall in step with her grandmother. The procession through the halls of SHIELD was one Claire was somewhat glad to bear witness to: the looks of surprise and anger that flashed on the face of the agents reflected what she herself was feeling, in regards to the presence of the Asgardians. An inclination to stare down what was foreign: how very human. Fleeting moments like this, Claire was grateful for-they fed her a bit more of humanity, and that feeling of belonging, of being a normal part in the natural way of things.

"Direct Laufeyson into one of the interrogation rooms." Angela's voice cut clear through Claire's thoughts, and made the thunderer turn to regard her. "We are to have words with him."

"With all due respect, Loki is of Asgard, and it is there he must be brought." Thor glanced down to Angela, working hard to achieve some manner of diplomacy. "How he has slipped through our defenses and returned to this realm is beyond me. But he must be returned, and there he will be dealt with accordingly."

"You said something similar last time, Odinson, and you failed to do so until he had leveled half of a major city. Before you drag him back across the stars again we're going to have a talk."

Before Thor could object any further, Angela moved past him and stepped into the interrogation room, waving a dismissive hand to keep other agents at bay. She, and she alone, was going to speak with him.

Claire moved past Thor, anger creeping along her spine, and she stopped in front of the interrogation room two-way mirror, to watch and listen to the conversation between her mother and the trickster. Her lip curled some in distaste-Angela wasn't going to get any answers from him. And if anyone could be demanding answers, shouldn't it have been Claire herself? If only for a few minutes? Thor came into place beside her, remaining silent-he was intent on listening to what his brother had to say.

"Now, Laufeyson-"

"Laufey is dead, that name doesn't stand."

"Then should I call you Odinson? You are the brother of Thor, aren't you?"

Silence. But Loki's face curled into a cruel grin.

"I suppose we can be on a first name basis. I'm Angela. The last time you were here, Loki, you caused quite a significant amount of damage to our world. It seems your world is incapable of containing you and giving you the punishment you deserve. As a war criminal, you are fit to stand trial here, but chances are-"

"If Asgard's prison cannot contain me, then there is certainly no place on this rock that you can keep me."

"So, you got out of your prison. What would make you think to come back here?"

"Safety. My brother, as you refer to him, is the protector of this realm. So why not go where I'll be protected?"

Angela fell silent for a moment, but pursed her lips in a tight smile.

"If you want to keep your precious city safe, Angela, then why bring me to the heart of it? Your kind are not the only kind I have crossed in the cosmos."

Thor tensed. He knew where this was going. Claire glanced up at him with a questioning look, but the thunderer's gaze did not stray from his brother.

"Really, bringing me here? That was not a wise choice. Though, your people are not known for wisdom. You are quick to demand and loathe answering to higher authorities. No wonder Thor holds you in such high esteem. You're about as evolved as he is."

"Where should we have brought you?"

"A vast and open space. One that you wouldn't mind falling under attack."

"We mind all places falling under attack. This is our world, not yours. Its not a toy."

"No, it is not, but it is only a small piece in the grander scheme." Loki grinned and gave a laugh-a delighted laugh, and akin to nails on a chalkboard. "In Asgard, I was under very specific protection. I was hidden. But now that I'm here, I am a beacon for all in the galaxy. If you fall under attack here, well, you brought it upon yourself." His eyes darted to the two-way. "Not many realize there's more damage done by bringing me closer instead of sending me on my way."

The intent of those words did not slip by Thor.

"Whatever you say, Laufeyson." Angela only smiled as she stood. "We'll see about an extradition for you. Perhaps sending you back to Asgard with your brother would be best."

She left the room without turning to see the sneer of malcontent slide across Loki's features. Wordlessly, she passed by Thor and Claire, and the other SHIELD agents who had helped bring the Asgardians in fell into place after Angela. Thor and Claire were left alone in the corridor, and they quietly glanced to one another before looking into the interrogation room again. A hint of...something twitched its way into the lines of Thor's face, but Claire didn't look closer to see what. She didn't look at all-she opted to barge into the interrogation room instead,

"Why the hell are you here?" Anger was clear on her face, and it took fiery residence in her eyes. "Haven't you done enough already? And why the hell did you snap my neck?"

"I'm disappointed that gesture didn't kill you. I was hoping it would shut you up."

"You'll have to try harder than that."

"Oh, you are angry, aren't you? A little whirlwind of a person. You are very demanding-have you made any sort of connection with my darling brother out there yet?" He chuckled, and added dryly, "You two seem like kindred spirits."

"Enough!" Thor looked to Loki as he entered the interrogation room, then placed a heavy hand on Claire's shoulder and turned her around. "Come with me. This will get you nowhere."

Claire shoved Thor's hand off, but gave in and followed the thunderer out of the room-not without casting a last glance to the trickster, who only managed to smirk a farewell to her before the door shut behind her.

"Why not let me talk to him?"

"It will get you nowhere. You seek answers, as do I. But Loki will not give them directly. I have learned, over the years, that what he offers comes in subtlety and only when he wishes it to be known." A little too late, he had realized that. "But do not think you are alone in seeking answers from him."

"I know I'm not alone. There's a whole world of people wondering what the hell he did last year, let alone wondering why he'd return after that!"

"I am aware." Thor frowned-he was struggling to maintain his patience. Why did the mortals need things categorized into such strict categories of black and white? Loki would only ever smear the labels and bathe everything in gray. "But he is not going anywhere. Answers will be obtained, in time." He offered a slight smile-maybe he could try changing the subject. "What is your name?"

"Claire." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair as she glanced up to the god, deciding to take the bait and let the subject change. "Claire Bennet."

"Well met, Claire Bennet." He gave a polite nod. "I must ask you this: how did you recover from your neck being broken? I was not aware of continued practice of _seiðr_ in your kind. Unless it is some sort of technological advancement?"

"No, no weird devices or anything. But..._seiðr_?" A look of confusion passed over Claire's face. "What is that?"

"Magic, simply put."

"Oh. No, no its not magic." A slight, sad smile pulled at one corner of her mouth. "There's nothing magical about it. I'm a mutant. There's people like me who can do things like that-some people can fly, turn invisible, have great strength, things like that. Its a trait."

"I see. And yours is healing?"

"Yeah." She smiled slightly. "Healing."

"It would take a powerful sorcerer to cause that rapid of a recovery from an injury, back in Asgard. You have a real gift."

"Its something." She laughed slightly. Two years ago, with Samuel, it was almost tempting to bite the fruit of superiority and call what she did a gift. "It has its uses."

"It would be most useful in battle."

Claire glanced up at Thor and smiled a bit. An army of giant, blond warriors like him who could heal-that was something terrifying to think about, really. Nothing could stop them. Her smile faded as Thor glanced briefly away. Anger still boiled in her veins-how dare they return here, after what they did? But despite who he was-this magnificent being, this magical god-king in the making, this mighty warrior whose brother had ravaged a city, there was a certain sense of something familiar that emanated from the Odinson-he was genuine, and honest. And even Claire, in all of her anger and ill will about the situation and his appearance, couldn't look past those two key traits after a lifetime of being snared in the lies of others. She couldn't really blame him for the actions of his brother, could she? Loki seemed to do that enough himself.

"Odinson?"

Angela's voice made both Claire and Thor turn, and Angela stood with a tight smile on her face.

"Director Fury wishes to speak with you. If you'll come with me."

Thor nodded, then glanced down at Claire, curiosity lining his features. Claire's eyes darted to him, and then ahead to Angela, quickly-it was too much, too familiar; to see someone whose emotions were not on their sleeve but clear on their face in their eyes? It was like looking in a mirror. Despite that, Claire's mouth twitched up in a smile. Thor, content with this, followed after Angela, and Claire fell in place beside him. Whatever was happening, she was a part of it, whether her grandmother and the others in SHIELD liked it or not. She didn't glance back to Loki, though.

His gaze was already boring into her back.

* * *

"Mom, look! A meteorite!"

"Hm? Oh, look at that. Make a wish, Timmy!"

The little boy squeezed his eyes shut, practically bouncing with excitement while his hands remained glued to the window. His mother's hand slipped off his shoulder as she pulled away, and then Timmy opened an eye to peek out at the meteorite-he couldn't help his curiosity. Both eyes opened wide in surprise-the meteorite seemed like it was coming right at them.

"Mom? I think its coming this way."

"Don't worry, sweetie, those things always burn up before they come close to us."

The ball of apparent fire was approaching, though, and Timmy's gut twisted around itself. He hopped down from the window and darted out to the front porch.

"Timmy, come back in, its almost time for-"

His mother had followed him out to the porch, and when she saw that the flaming ball was coming closer-much closer, really-she gulped quietly and shooed her son back inside.

"Go into the basement, Timmy, now!"

The door was barely shut behind them when the meteorite crashed into the ground, and the impact made the house feel as if the foundation had been jarred completely free. Windows shattered, and Timmy's mom screeched in fear.

Outside, the meteorite-or rather, what had appeared as one-stretched out with a groan, and then rose on shaky legs to stand on two massive feet. The giant unfurled as its posture straightened, and there was a slight pop as bones settled back into place after the impact. The being cracked its neck and glanced to the house before starting its trek southward. It had a god to find.

Loki Laufeyson had a debt to pay.


End file.
